


Songs of Courting and Complaint

by Lissy (Alicia_H)



Category: 1960s Music Scene RPF, Folk Songs, Original Work
Genre: 1960s, Bisexual Character, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, F/M, Family, Folk Music, Lesbian Character, Marriage, Music, NaNoWriMo, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, School, Sheffield (Yorkshire), Teen Pregnancy, Teenagers, Unbeta'd, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alicia_H/pseuds/Lissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adventures of Nell Price, her husband Ian's rock 'n' roll group and her folk singing friend Rosemary (who prefers to be known as Flora). The story is based loosely on the lives of, and likely to include at some point, some of my favourite bands and singers from the 1960s.</p><p>I started this for nanowrimo 2009, left it alone for a bit decided to continue it in March 2010. As as result I'm not entirely sure where it's going at the moment. This version of the story is edited as little as possible and hasn't been beta read. I plan to revise it at some point in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't I Wish I Was a Single Girl Again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was single  
> I went dressed up so fine  
> Now I am married, Lord,  
> I go ragged all the time  
> Oh, Lord, don't I wish I was a single girl again.

Nell gazed with bleary and confused eyes at her day old wedding ring. She'd convinced herself when she'd woken up a few hours ago in a cold sweat to stumble across the landing that none of it had happened. Even as she wretched over the toilet in the pristine white indoor bathroom of her Auntie's house she had been convinced that it had all been a terribly bad dream, a cruel trick played on her by her worried mind.

She wasn't married. She wasn't even due to get married. It was all down to needless worry brought on by her impending exams. That and the cheese sandwich she'd had for her rushed supper after hours pouring over log tables and formula books. Oh, why, oh why had she ever decided that a maths A level was something she needed when all she wanted to be was an artist. Or, at least, an art teacher because the world doesn't take kindly to girls who aren't employed in some underpaid job until they take their proper place at home.

Tears sprang up in Nell's too tired eyes as her auntie called her name up the stairs. She wished so much that her mother hadn't gone home last night. She needed to see her but, of course, she did not have the fare for the train and bus to take her all the way to Whitby from here.

But, as Auntie Lydia rightly said, it was time to get up and drag her lazy arse downstairs and out to face her fate. Nell pushed herself up wearily, throwing the teddy she found sat on her stomach, giving her the beadiest of glares, across the room with a heaving scream. It hit her Brigitte Bardot poster with a growl and dropped to the floor. The silent room was filled with the sound of the poster's papery flutter until her name was called again.

"Yes, Auntie," Nell grumbled. "I'm getting up. I promise I'm getting up."

Regardless of her words, she in fact stayed in bed a minute or two longer, dreading the moment that she would have to push the covers back. It might be May, but it was not yet summer. And, though a cliché, it was certainly true that it was grim up North. More than that, it was fucking freezing.

Nell finally surrendered herself to the inevitability of it and heaved the heavy covers off herself. She might have sworn if she was that type of person. As it was, she hissed and leapt up, swinging her legs round. She was careful to step on the fluffy purple rug rather than the hard wood floor. She might be putting herself through a lot at the moment, but she was not that much of a glutton for punishment.

She dressed in record time. Socks went on first, pulled up to the knee, followed by grey pleated skirt and in the wink of an eye she'd whisked off her nightie and replaced it with the obligatory pale pink blouse and wooly jumper that was even greyer than her skirt. It really was a dull combination to add to the dull, dark haired girl who sported it. Still, at least it allowed the navy blue blazer to its job in a simple but rich splash of colour.

"You're looking smart," Auntie Lydia cooed approvingly as Nell stepped out of her room. She was already dressed in her usual neat navy blue, so was looking rather smart herself. The presence of her pink curlers spoiled the effect a little but that was nothing too terrible.

"Don't I always look smart?" Nell asked, standing to attention with her hands clasped behind her back.

She glowed with pride every time her auntie praised her or complimented her. It wasn't as though she was an unnecessarily cruel or particularly nasty woman, but she was truthful and Nell knew she meant every kind word just as much as every scolding nag.

"Usually at this time in the morning you look like the cat's dragged you through the hedge backwards and stayed around to tease your hair."

"Well, usually I get home much later and don't get as much sleep."

"Don't I know it. The hours I've spent waiting up for you. I'm lucky that young man of yours always makes sure you get the last tram home and doesn't keep you any later."

"Well, you won't have to worry before to long," Nell said with a sweet smile. "He's looking to get us our own place."

"I might not have to worry, but I still do. You tell him he's not to take you too far away from me. Your mother might be able to cope with you being a hundred miles away from her, but I don't feel the same way."

Nell whispered softly, "I know."

Auntie Lydia looked strangely as though she might have a tear welling in her eye, but Nell made no comment. She instead let herself be led downstairs to be treated with a surprise full cooked breakfast.

"I would have done this for you yesterday," Auntie Lydia told her kindly as she scraped the egg with the yolk that hadn't broken onto Nell's already overfull plate. "But it was so early and you were in such a state yesterday..."

Nell went straight for the egg with a triangle of toast and stabbed at the yolk with a corner. She crunched at the toast, licking a drip off her finger as she was reminded of just how perfect her auntie's breakfasts were.

When her mouth was no longer full, she said, "Oh, I definitely wouldn't have appreciated it yesterday. I didn't really want to eat much in the morning."

"I noticed."

"Thank you so much for this, Auntie," Nell said as she sawed at her bacon. The fat glistened on it as it came apart.

"Just you make sure you pay me back by doing well in that exam, young lady."

Nell promised she would and tucked into her breakfast. On a normal day she might have ventured to say hesitantly that she didn't think she'd do quite as well in maths as she felt she would in her other subjects. Auntie Lydia would, of course, say what she usually said: that'd she'd got such a high mark in her maths O level, that there was no reason that she couldn't fare as well in the A level exam. This always annoyed Nell because no matter how many times they had the discussion, Auntie never seemed to grasp that the whole point of the A level was to be harder than the O level. Too hard, almost.

As Nell finished off her food with a flourish, sweeping the last of the egg and bacon scraps up with her last piece of toast and wolfing it down, she was aware that her auntie had finished her own breakfast and was watching her carefully. Nell was careful to lay her knife and fork down together and flashed her auntie a winning but sleepy smile.

"You've got some colour back in your cheeks now, I see," Auntie said. "I thought you were looking a bit peaky before but not as much as yesterday at least."

Nell's smile weakened as she remembered how worried she'd been that she'd be sick or faint during the wedding. Luckily, that had all happened before they were supposed to set off. Well, actually, just after they were supposed to set off and Nell had to be rushed back into the house with her mother shouting after her that they'd be late. She'd had to listen to her mother and auntie arguing with each other outside as she'd stood hunched over the kitchen sink in tears. Her auntie had eventually come in and cleaned her up and redid her makeup. Luckily Grandma's white dress remained spotless and unharmed by the incident. Mum sorted out Nell's hair and veil as she sat fidgeting in the back of the car.

The wedding itself had gone about as well as one where the only guests to speak of as the bride's mother, aunt and gran and the only person around to support the groom being the manager of the record shop he spent most of his time in. All the same, it was a relief to leave even those few relations behind and escape to York for the day.

A generous relative had given Ian a hundred pounds by and most of that had gone on a stack of records for himself and several stacks of books for Nell. The cups of coffee they ordered with lunch were spun out as long as possible as they chatted at length about those first tense weeks of winding each other up over the wall, the surprising smoothness of the wedding and how they were both utterly knackered from the early start that morning.

Outside the rain pounded the pavement but the tearoom was mostly empty for the moment. Nell picked up one of her bags and started looking through it with great excitement. She thanked Ian for buying her all these new treasures. He smiled at her with what might have been a bit of a blush in his cheeks. Unlike some of the boys who'd come before him, he did not shrug and mumble that they were just books. What he did instead was lean over and stroke her cheek while he said, "I love you."

The future was touched upon with mutual promises to give 'Our Kid' a family with a proper Mum and Dad and not to foist him off on any uncles, aunties or random strangers before the lady came over to collect their cups. She asked pointedly if they'd be wanting anything else. The tea room was being steadily invaded by groups of wet families and pensioners, so they told her no thank you, smiling politely as they left her a tip as they each dreamt up an insult that they'd never say to her face.

As they left, Nell's eye had been caught by a pair of elderly ladies who were deep in conversation. She'd spotted them when she'd first come in and the younger looking one, who was facing the door, had looked up at Nell and Ian and smiled warmly. Unlike herself and her brand new husband, these two had ordered again. They were each seeing to their steaming teacups with one hand. Nell watchd the older, slightly frail lady stirring a lump of brown sugar into her tea while the younger broke her free biscuit in half and dipped the smaller piece into her own. Their other hands, Nell saw as she passed, were laid across the table so that they almost looked like they were holding hands.

On glancing back, she realised with a jolt that they were. The younger of the pair was gently stroking her friend's blue veined hand with her thumb.

She was saying, "But the house is still in your name. You know how much I worry about it all. They won't care about our agreement or my contribution to the mortgage or 30 years of memories..."

Nell's breath caught as she heard this. She wanted to hear more, though she couldn't quite explain why. She was prevented by the arrival of a couple who didn't seem to be much older than Ian and herself who were trying to coax their twin toddlers through the door. The two ladies were also distracted by this scene and so heard Nell's comment to Ian that that would be them in two years time. The older lady shook her head and told Nell that she was talking nonsense and two young people as nice as them would almost certainly raise their child to be a lot better behaved than that. Nell thanked her earnestly while Ian cheered up the other couple's twins by making hideous faces that the two boys found hilarious.

When the young family were safely through the door, Ian returned to his wife with a quick kiss and a grin as he told her to hurry up with their kid because he'd really enjoyed that. Nell laughed and the two of them bid goodbye to their new friends, the elderly friends to the right and the young couple and their boys to the left before decamping to the cinema down the round for a double feature of Brigitte Bardot. The next few hours were happily spent alternating between snogging and gazing lustfully and admiringly at the ever gloriously blonde and beautiful Brigitte. This had been her very favourite way to spend a drizzly afternoon ever since her old friend from over the wall had asked if she'd heard of this French actress who all the boys of a certain age were currently mad on...

"Are we ready, then?" Auntie Lydia asked with a smile, snapping Nell out of her daydream.

"As I'll ever be," Nell said resignedly.

She stood up and smoothed out her jumper self-consciously. The school jumpers had always been too big for her but then again that might prove a blessing by the time she escaped in June. Apparently two months could make a lot of difference and she might need to start being careful about what she wore. At least her paint covered smock would help disguise anything suspicious by the time her final art exam began.

"Don't be blue. You're a married woman and married to a decent bloke which is more than can be said for some unfortunate girls these days."

"I suppose so," Nell murmured.

Auntie Lydia picked up her case that she kept her lesson plans in and ushered Nell towards the door, "So you cheer up and just you keep reminding yourself that Mrs Helena Price doesn't do any worse at mathematics just for having been married the day before."

Nell managed another smile, not as bright as earlier but all the same not quite as despondent as it might have been. She took a deep breath and sat back down briefly to slip on her mary janes. Auntie Lydia placed a light kiss on her head as she hugged her goodbye.

Her backpack clutched in her hand, Nell ventured blinkingly into the sun. As she took her bike out of the garden shed, she repeated her new name to herself under her breath in as many different voices and intonations as she could dream up. No matter how it came out sounding, it still didn't sound quite right.

She tried one more time as she wrestled the gate open. "Mrs Helena Price. Nah, can't be me. Surely?"


	2. Good Morning Little School Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, little schoolgirl.  
> Good morning, little schoolgirl.  
> Can I go home with you?  
> Won't you let me go home with you?

Nell found herself being wished good luck by various people on her way from the bike shed to the exam room, from the would be Teddy Boys - to her disappointment, Ian wasn't with them - who were smoking behind their own shed to her art friends who were busy hanging their coursework. Then there was her maths teacher who smiled broadly at her and squeezed her shoulder encouragingly.

There were a few other girls she knew waiting outside the room when she reached it but the rest were a gaggle of giggling girlie types sharing around a magazine and pointing at pictures of longhaired boys with fancy guitars. One of the girls was Miss Riley from Class B, whose first name Nell didn't know. She stood by herself in the corner, red hair fanning across her shoulders and ending somewhere way down her back, counting off on her fingers and muttering things to herself as she did so. Her grey clad legs moved as she shifted about on her feet, lost in a world of algebra and calculus. The numbers, Nell knew, were as instinctive as language. It was the rules and method that needed memorising. Though they were both two deep in concentration to talk, Miss Riley was the closest person to Nell's chosen waiting spot and so she became the most convenient person for her to hurriedly ask to guard her bag when she needed to dash away.

Miss Riley started when Nell spoke to her and looked at her strangely, for they had barely spoken two words to each other in all their years at the same school. Some of the group of girls laughed and imitated her sudden jerky movement, making the rest laugh twice as loud. Nell knew they'd be laughing at her as she ran to the toilets, but she couldn't find the effort to care.

She returned to the exam room feeling rather sheepish that she was now late for the start of the exam. It really wasn't fair that she should be made late when she'd arrived perfectly early in the first place but then neither was anything else the unborn baby had brought upon her life. All right, there was one thing that was fair. She had Ian. But even that. Yes the wedding had gone reasonably well and all that but it wasn't the wedding she had always been supposed to have with all her friends there and Uncle Simon to give her away. And now she never would have one like that. Nell was trudging her way down the corridor with these despondent thoughts winding round her head when she was met by her teacher again.

"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed far too joyfully and proceeded to tell her all the places she'd been searching for her missing student.

Nell frowned and allowed him to lead her into the room. As she entered, she heard a snatch of what one of the girls she didn't really know saying to another teacher – "heard someone being sick, sir, and think it was probably Miss Goodrich" – and her frown deepened.

Her face had fallen completely by the time she reached her desk to find that somebody had been through her bag to get her pens and pencils. There were things in that bag that she didn't want anyone at school to see, teachers or students.

There was her diary, which held every gory detail leading up to her wedding, the couple of sketch books she always liked to have to hand just in case and her scrapbook with pictures Ian had given her of all the singers, actresses and models she liked, some of them definitely not fit for public viewing. Most embarrassingly of all was the book of baby names Auntie Lydia had given her the day after Nell's tearfully terrified confession. It was having the reminder of this demonstration of acceptance and support that made Nell carry the book around. The actual desire to pick out a name had not yet manifested itself. She wasn't that attached. Sometimes she even managed to forget it was there.

Feeling increasingly nervous about it all, Nell sat waiting for the papers to be handed round with her legs crossed. Her right foot bounced in an agitated manner. She tapped the end of her pencil on the table. It seemed an eternity between the time the exam paper landed on her desk and the invigilator telling them they were all allowed to turn over.

Nell read the first question and felt any scrap of confidence she had left being ripped from her. She couldn't do it. Two years of preparation for this exam and endless hours revising and she couldn't do the first question. She spent a full five minutes staring at that one question and reading it over and over in her head in a blind panic. Eventually she tore her eyes away from it and settled them on the next question. Oh. She could do that one. She began to breathe again.  
Her confidence returned somewhat as she read on and realised she knew how to do the majority of the paper. She began to write with a shaky hand.

Two papers and several headaches later, Nell was told that her time was up and that she must put her pen or pencil down and close her paper. She did as she was told and straightened her equipment to keep her hands busy.

She wanted so much to get out of this stuffy exam hall. She wanted to find Ian or at least chat to his friends across the wall. What she didn't was to watch everyone else file out row by row while her own set was the last to be let out. When finally she was allowed to escape, Nell slipped out into the yard through the nearest open window, climbing onto a bench and hopping down from there.

She was making her way to the bike shed when she ran straight into the last person she expected or even wanted to see. Miss Riley dropped the books she'd been carrying under her arm when Nell accidentally knocked into her. She still managed to catch Nell's arm to stop her tripping over when she lost her balance.

Nell was shaken. For the first time, she thought she worried that she ought to be more careful. One bad fall might do more harm that just a twisted ankle or a scraped knee. She thanked the other girl as she caught her breath.

"Are you all right?" Miss Riley asked her as she stooped to pick up her books while Nell leaned heavily against the nearest wall. The window had been thrown open as Nell could hear a lesson going on inside.

She said awkwardly that she was perfectly fine and that all she needed was a smoke and a lie down. The girl still seemed concerned and offered to take her to the nurse. She said she was supposed to be in an English lesson and was clearly worried about getting in trouble for being late.

Nell shook her head and thanked her. She said, "You should get on to your lesson. I'll be be fine."

Miss Riley bit her lip. "He said we needn't bother showing up if we had an exam this morning," she said. "I wasn't sure if I ought to go or not. It's probably too late now."

"Well I'm going to find someone," Nell told her decisively.

There was an awkward moment as Nell prepared to push herself away from the wall. She could see the other girl's brain ticking over as she tried to work out if she was allowed to go with her or not. Nell felt for her, she really did. She was herself a shy girl at heart but she had come out of her shell somewhat since she'd first started going around with Ian.

"You know," Nell said to her, feeling she had to say something. "If you don't want to bother with your lesson, I'm sure the boys would be thrilled to meet you."

Or at least have you around to look at now I'm completely off limits, she added inside her head.

She wondered about Miss Riley as they walked. Nell hardly knew anything about her at all. They'd never really crossed paths, being in different streams and living their lives out in separate scenes. The artist who had long been the girlfriend of the leader of the area's best beat group, and who'd once been in big trouble for dying her hair blonde to copy a film star, had never really thought to make friends with the school's quietest girl.

Indeed it came as a surprise to the three junior Teddy Boys who witnessed their arrival at the bike shed a few minutes later.

"Who's your friend, Nell?" One asked as he threw his fag end over the wall into the bushed.

Another said, "Not seen her about before."

The third was staring at them in silent contemplation. Nell looked to her left to see that Miss Riley had noticed his concentrated gaze and was squirming under it. She seemed to have no clue what to do with herself. At least she was returning his attention with a few shy glances, even if she was spending more time looking at the floor. Nell, while she had never been all that interested in matchmaking, was tempted to push this along to see if it went anywhere and so decided to introduce the boy.

"This is Tim Evans," she said with a rather enthusiastic hand gesture. "And this is Miss Riley and I don't know her very well. I don't even know your first name, love. I'm sorry."

She blushed a little and mumbled, "Rosemary." She glanced at Nell, almost as if she was seeking approval.

"Nice name," the first boy said as he fished a new fag out of a crumpled packet.

After he'd found one, he paused for a second and retrieved another. He leant over the wall and offered this one to Nell. She accepted gratefully and set about looking for her lighter.

The third boy, Tim, finally spoke up and said to Rosemary, "I know you, don't I?"

She gave him a confused look as she ran a hand through her hair. It was looking an especially vibrant golden red beneath the brightly shining midday sun. Nell wondered idly why the poor girl didn't get more positive attention with gorgeous hair like that.

"I shouldn't think so," she said quietly.

"No, no, no. I do," he insisted. "You play guitar for your brother, don't you?"

"Oh, well, yeah. I suppose I do do that."

Tim went on. "You're pretty good, you know. I don't think I could do what you do with just my fingers."

She brightened and told him, "It's taken a lot of practice and I'm not as good as some of the proper people but I think I good enough for what I'm needed for. I do actually use a pick on my thumb sometimes but I need to work on using it."

He looked impressed and nodded. She nodded back and fell silent.

'Well there goes a promising relationship ruined by the teensy problem of them not being able to talk to each other for more than a minute,' Nell thought to herself slightly sarcastically, remembering something Ian had said to her along those lines when they'd been at this stage. In truth she couldn't help thinking of it as being quite sweet. Though, of course, it helped that she had no reason to be mortified by uncomfortable silences. Well, except on their behalf.

"Have any of you lot seen Ian?" Nell asked when she felt that neither Tim or Rosemary would attempt to strike up another conversation.

She'd finally found her lighter and passed it round when she'd used it.

"Started keeping tabs on him already?" the second boy who'd spoken asked with a grin.

"What do you mean 'started'?" she returned along with a grin of her own. "I've always kept tabs on him. It's just I haven't seen him since we got back from York and I want to be sure he's not jumped into the Don or something to avoid seeing me."

"Ian's such a lucky bloke 'aving you around to worry for him," the first boy said sarcastically as he passed her lighter back.

"Ta, Stephen," she replied, flicking his hand deliberately hard with her finger after she'd taken her lighter from him.

"Hey!" He made a movement as though to pull her hair but instead flicked her shoulder instead.

From then on in it turned into a semi-affectionate battle of flicks and half-hearted slaps, with the participants being careful to stay away from sensitive areas such as his precious DA hair and her midriff. Their play fight lasted a full five minutes before he pulled the winning blow of wrapping his arms around her and drawing her into an overly desperate passionate kiss. She slipped her left hand up to his neck to support herself and returned the action in a similarly exaggerated manner.

"You are such a lucky devil that Ian never catches you doing that!" she said when they released each other after they'd both dissolved into giggles.

Stephen pointed out that he wasn't the only lucky one and that set them off again. The other two boys were laughing along too but poor bemused Rosemary was staring at them in something akin to horror.

The other boy quickly introduced himself as Sam and said, "Take no notice of them. They can't keep their hands off each other when her bloke's back's turned but they don't mean anything by it."

"No, it really doesn't," Stephen assured her while at the same time giving Nell another squeeze. "She's like a sister to me is our Nellie."

"I'd hate to see the things you get up to with your real sister, then." Sam said, dancing out of the way when Stephen struck out for him with a deliberately miss-aimed punch.

"Best not to tell Ian about it whenever her bothers to turn up," Tim advised the still baffled Rosemary. "He's a bit of the jealous type."

Sam was looking over his shoulder at the rest of the boys' yard and said seriously. "Talk of the devil. Hands off now children, before there's trouble."

The two calmly disentangled themselves and retreated from the wall until they were a respectable distance apart. Stephen gave Nell a smirk but she looked away from him, determined to keep a straight face as her husband approached.

He approached them at a run, vaulting the wall easily even with the crumpled white bundle he held under his right arm. With his free arm flung around Nell's shoulders, he kissed her. She closed her eyes and tilted her face up. The scent of leather came to her in her heady state she always entered into when they kissed. All distractions usually fell clean away but this was a new, strong smell.

"Is this new?" she asked, stroking the arm of the unfamiliar jacket.

"Just got it today," Ian said with a grin.

From somewhere nearby, Sam joked, "You a rocker of sommat now?"

"Maybe. Doesn't make much difference really." Ian waved his hand dismissively as he went on,"Besides, we were never really Teddy Boys to start with. The proper ones went away ages ago."

The other boys didn't seem to know what to say to this. There was a slightly puzzled silence while everyone waited for everyone else to say something profound, or at least profoundly stupid.

"At least he's not turning into one of those mods," Tim pointed out. "That would be worse."

Nell was not paying attention to this little back and forth. She was too busy fingering the thing under Ian's arm and wondering what it could be.

Stephen was more direct about it. He hopped over the wall himself and questioned, "And what's this thing then?"

Ian's grin widened and he held the package in both hands, saying proudly, "It's for Nell."

Nell was thrilled to be presented with the mysterious gift. She held it in her hands for a minute or two, listening to the tissue paper crinkle under her excited fingers. After several impatient voices offered to open the 'damn thing' for her, she finally ripped off the paper and unfurled what she found inside. It was her own leather coat, a beautiful chocolate brown colour and smelling brand new. Her face burst into a bright smile and she flung her arms round Ian.

"Put it on then!" he told her with a delighted laugh.

Nell passed it back to him. "You."

Once Nell had shrugged off her backpack, Ian did as he was told and wrapped it round her shoulders. She slipped her arms into it and looked down at herself to admire it as best she could without a mirror.

"You look gorgeous, love," Ian said before giving her another kiss.

"I'll just have to believe you until I get a look at myself, won't I?" Nell said, adding lightheartedly, "You better not be lying to me, Ian Price, or else..."

"Or else what?"

"You're for it!"

Ian held up his hands and put on an extremely effeminate voice. "Ooooh, that sounds ominous!"

This sent the whole group into fits of laughter. Even shy Rosemary couldn't hold back this time. It was this sight of six teenagers banded together, some smoking, some embracing, all of them cackling like a pack of hyenas that met the sour faced teacher who arrived, apparently wanting to unchain his bike. Unluckily for them, he'd been overseeing a maths examination all morning, the start of which had been delayed by the missing girl now stood before him. More unlucky still was the fact that this girl was currently smoking, cavorting with a very uncouth looking young man and wearing a decidedly non-uniform leather jacket.

"You, girl," he said, his brain clearly ticking over as he tried to decided what to pick her up on first.

"Me?" Nell asked. She was not exactly trying to be cheeky but she certainly didn't want to seem too frightened or eager to please in front of this lot.

"Yes, of course you," he said crossly. "You'd be Miss Goodrich, am I right?"

"Well..." she said but Ian decided to interject.

"No, you're not right. She's not 'Miss Goodrich', so..." He stepped forward and looked worryingly as though he might be readying himself for a fight.

"Not anymore," Nell qualified his statement. "But I was."

The nameless teacher raised a greying eyebrow. He said sneeringly, "And do you mean by 'was'?"

"She's Mrs Price now and, if you've got a problem with that, you take it out on me. Not her!"

Nell covered eyes and wailed hopelessly, "Ian! We weren't supposed to say anything. Mum said-"

"Who cares what your mum said?" Ian shot back. "Your mum buggered off back to Whitby the first chance she got. At least my mum's bothered enough about us to invite us round for tea tonight!"

"I - oh - I - What? Really?"

"Yeah, she wants us round at six."

"That's nice of her," Nell said, smiling sweetly at him.

The teacher coughed to recall their attention to the matter in hand. "Do we all call smoking and cavorting an appropriate use of school time and property?"

Ian shrugged and turned away from the teacher. "It's not the worst use I could think of, Mr Morgan," he said cheekily over his leather clad shoulder.

Nell was relieved that the aggressive tone had left his voice but her relief was short lived, for the delightful and clearly very friendly Mr Morgan had returned his attention to her.

"You are aware, Miss Goodrich, of your own school's code of conduct and uniform policy."

He spoke slowly, plucking at a corner of her coat, looking down at it with a careful, disgusted curiosity, as though it were made of spiders rather than leather. Nell felt the back of his long, cold white fingers brush against her neck briefly as he reached towards her to demonstrate the offending item of clothing.

As little as she wanted to cause trouble, Nell felt that this man was unpleasant enough that he deserved all the cheek he could possibly get from the six of them. Well, probably five because Rosemary seemed even less likely to say boo to goose than Nell, never mind conspire to undermine a teacher she didn't know.

"It's a coat, sir. I was cold and Ian bought it for me. I didn't want to stand around holding it when I could be trying it on."

And trying it on she was! She could see it in Mr Morgan's eyes. He wanted to punish her so much that his face was taking on an interesting shade of purple. Nell fought the urge to smile but this really was a rare thrill. It was no wonder Ian had long ago taken to antagonising this sort of person. It still appalled the sensible side of her to be winding up a teacher but she was beginning to understand the appeal.

Besides, what could he really do? This wasn't his school. He was here to watch over her exam this morning. He could hardly put a student from another school in detention for minding her own business until he decided to have a go.

"Well, so I'm to understand that Price is behind this?" he asked in haughty tones. He'd snared one victim and he knew it. "Well, I think you can see me on Friday afternoon, Price. You remember where I teach, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do..."

"Very well." Then, rather than releasing a bike from the shed, he approached the wall. He looked to Ian, who it turned out was considerably smaller than him. So much so that Ian was forced to tilt his head back a little to look the teacher in his face. "After you, Price."

Grumbling to himself, Ian vaulted the wall and waited on the other side in some sort of mockery of obidience. Mr Morgan followed him with ease, his long legs making nothing of such a low wall. He turned to them and made the threats they had all expected: if her ever saw any of them on the wrong side of the wall again, or even within ten feet of the wall or in Town together... and so on.

The boys made faces at his back as he strode purposefully away.

There was a ripple of laughter around the group but this quickly fell away into silence.

"Christ, that was unexpected," Ian said, rubbing his chin. "I haven't been in trouble with Old Moggy for years."

"Mostly because you haven't had to be in any of his lessons for years," Tim pointed out.

"That is true," Ian agreed stoically.

"Or even went to them when you should strictly have been."

Ian looked at Tim and smirked. "Just because all that maths stuff comes natural to you."

"It does to your girlfriend too," Stephen pointed out, nodding in Nell's direction.

She shook her head and corrected him. "Wife."

"Yeah," Ian said emphatically. He leaned over the wall to take both of Nell's hands. "Wife. And don't any of you lot ever forget it."

"Not bloody likely," Stephen muttered. Nell heard this but chose to ignore him.

At that moment three bells from three different yet tightly packed grammar school's rang out all around them. Ian jumped at the sudden oppressive noise and the buzz of activity that started to build up in their respective yards.

This stirred the relatively silent Sam to speech once more. "We've got an audition," he said.

"Yeah, so we 'ave." Ian agreed distantly, busy gazing at Nell. He grinned at her. "Almost wish we didn't."

"You'll do fine ," she assured him.

"That's that what I'm fussed about."

"When, you two are done..." Stephen began.

Ian said, "I'll meet you at the gate."

The not-quite-Teddy-Boys all made their goodbyes to the two girls, but Nell was hardly aware of what she said back. She was far too busy absorbing every last moment she and Ian had together before what would likely be a whole afternoon's separation.

When they were alone, except for Rosemary, who was so quiet they easily forgot her presence, Ian softened. He stroked Nell's cheek gently and placed a kiss on the same spot. He asked with open trepidation, "You are coming to tea tonight, right love?"

"Of course I am! I wouldn't miss tea with your mum for anything. Or with you for that matter." She smiled an especially sweet smile that she reserved only for him.

He kissed her cheek again and she wondered if he did that to avoid disturbing her smile. He did after all know that the best way to flatter her was to tell her that her smile was his favourite in the whole wide world. She loved anything that could assure her of the truth in his compliments. This, she felt, was the very thing.


End file.
